Winchester Family Therapy
by phantomstimeturner
Summary: After Mary's leaving, the Winchesters must take drastic measures to keep their family together. Maybe even...counseling.


"Sammy, this is really not necessary," Dean grumbled as they walked across the parking lot.

"This will _help!"_ Sam insisted. "Do it for Mom."

That was probably the only thing Sam could've said that would make Dean go along with this. He loved his mom, even after everything that had happened lately- she'd had the chance to be with her boys again, and she'd _left._

"This was your idea, not Mom's," Dean pointed out.

"But she liked it. That's why she came out all the way from….wherever she was," Sam argued.

Dean gestured to the entire parking lot. "I don't see her here! What if she bailed?"

"She wouldn't," Sam said confidently.

 _Sammy, you need to get back in reality,_ Dean thought. He sighed. "Whatever. Let's go in."

They walked into the formidable stone building and Sam checked them in for their session of family therapy. It was so dumb, Dean thought. They didn't need therapy. They were Winchesters; they were screwed-up people. Sammy should know that by now!

The receptionist directed them to the office and they headed in that direction, Sam with enthusiasm and Dean distinctly without it. They reached the door labeled "Dr. Marcus Cartwright, Family and Couples' Therapy". Sam knocked, heard someone call, "Come in!" and then opened the door.

"Mom!" Dean cried, unable to contain himself. He ran ahead and hugged Mary, who was sitting in a chair in front of the doctor's desk. She laughed a little and hugged him back quickly, but the doctor soon cleared his throat. "Forgive me, but would you like to start now, or wait for your other guest?"

Mary's blond eyebrows crinkled together. "Oh, we're all here, doctor."

Doctor Cartwright looked equally confused. "But I was told four were coming, and I see only three of you."

Mary gasped and gestured violently to the empty chair beside her. "ARE YOU FORGETTING ABOUT JOHN?!"

"That is an empty chair," the doctor said slowly.

"That is MY HUSBAND!" she cried in protest.

Sam was the first to figure out what was going on. He groaned. "Mom, is the ghost of Dad in that chair?"

She nodded. "Well, it's FAMILY therapy, not three-quarters of the family therapy!"

"This is why I _brought_ all of you to therapy!" he argued. "DAD'S DEAD, YOU HAVE TO LET HIM GO!"

She sniffled a little. "I- I bet that's what you said while I was gone!"

"Well…yes," he admitted. "Because you were DEAD!"

"Sometimes I wish I still was," she said in a low, serious voice.

Dean automatically did his best to get out of a serious conversation. "Uh, alright guys, let's make it easier to see Dad, even though he's a ghost. I've got some sunglasses, he can wear them…"

"But I thought only douchebags wore sunglasses inside!" Sam protested.

"They do." Dean briefly put on the sunglasses so he could be a boss. Then he put them on where he estimated his dad to be, and felt ghostly hands take them and put them on properly.

"Don't talk to your father that way!" Mary scolded.

Dean looked ashamed for only a moment; then he turned angry. "What gives you the authority to boss me around?! You left this family!"

"By DYING!" she shot back.

"Doesn't matter!" he argued.

"Well, I died because Azazel came for Sam!"

"Azazel came for Sam because you sold your soul to him!"

"I sold my soul because John died!"

Everyone looked at John's chair, empty other than the pair of douche-y sunglasses. Mary sighed and gave up. "Well, I'm sorry for dying, if it means that much to you."

"This is progress," the therapist chimed in. "Get everything out, no more secrets."

Doctor Marcus Cartwright regretted those words for the rest of his life. As soon as they escaped from his mouth, the Winchesters pounced on each other. Within minutes, Sam and Dean were arguing about who had a more difficult childhood, Mary was sobbing in the corner, and John was smashing houseplants against the wall.

All the color drained from the doctor's face. "I am not getting paid enough."

Nothing he could do would make the family quiet down enough to seriously talk, but Sam did it in two words. "Dean's gay."

"I- pfft, what?" Dean scoffed. "I'm not. Completely heterosexual, that's me."

"Yeah right," his brother snorted. "I've seen the way you look at Cas. Sorry."

Mary tilted her head and Dean. "Wait, does that mean you're _not_ dating Castiel?"

Dean's cheeks turned a bright flaming red. "I…um…why does everyone think that?"

"Gayyyyyyyy," Sam whispered.

"Please stop talking, Sammy."

The therapist used this moment to take back control. "Alright, let's talk about our feelings, in an _organized_ fashion. Dean, would you like to go first?"

Dean felt all eyes go to him, and a bundle of nerves settled in his chest. "I…feelings, right, I got this. Umm…I guess I'm not too happy about my mom leaving."

"Leaving?" Doctor Cartwright repeated. "What happened?"

"Well, see, I came back from the dead," Mary told him. "But I didn't fit in here, so I left my boys. Again. It seemed logical at the time."

"Sam, how does that make you feel?"

Sam swallowed. "Uh…not good?"

"Marvelous!" the doctor purred. "John, how are you feeling?"

The only answer was a potted plant being flung across the room. Doctor Cartwright cringed. "Right then. Dean, let's continue. What do you think of Sam's opinions on your sexuality?"

"Not true," Dean muttered, eyes cast downward.

Sam stood up from his chair. "VERY true!"

"Order in the court!" the doctor bellowed. "Don't make me get out the talking stick."

"Is that a kink?" Dean asked, looking way too interested.

"See!?" Sam exclaimed. "He wants to have sex with you, so he's bi!"

"I didn't say I wanted to have sex with him!" Dean exclaimed. "He's old and un-hot!"

Sam smirked. "So what guy WOULD be hot?"

The first image that popped into Dean's head was Cas, of course, but he didn't mention that. "Me. I am very hot."

"Boys," Mary said warningly.

The therapist shook his head. "Alright, let's move on. Sam, what do you think we need to talk about? And do not say Dean's sexuality."

Sam pouted. "But it's really important. It's tearing this family apart."

"Something else. Anything else."

After taking a moment to think about it, Sam spoke. "Well, everything I sleep with dies. That's kind of a problem."

"EVERYONE?!"

Sam nodded.

"Jesus Christ," Doctor Cartwright muttered. "And I thought I had issues."

"What should I do about it?" Sam asked earnestly.

"I don't know, are condoms sufficient protection against being damned to hell?"

Sam tilted his head. "They don't necessarily go to hell."

"Actually, Sam tends to sleep with people who probably _would_ go to hell," Dean said helpfully. "Some of them aren't even people."

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed.

"Lilith, Ruby, Madison…" Dean trailed off. "It's pretty clear that Sammy's taste is a little…exotic."

"You forgot Bela!" Sam protested. "It happened in a dream. A very vivid dream."

Mary buried her face in her hands. "I was so much happier in the eighties."

Doctor Cartwright had no idea how to respond to any of this, so he pushed forward. "Alright, John…what feelings would you like to talk about?"

For a brief moment, John Winchester became solid as his jaw unhinged and he wordlessly screamed in the therapist's face. Apparently, like Dean, he wasn't quite onboard with the idea of family therapy. Part of that may have been related to him being dead.

Marcus looked like he was ready to pass out, and just as he was about to call the therapy session to a close, there was a knock on the door. "Open it, one of you, please."

Sam reached back and opened it, since his arms were so long that he only had to tilt his chair a little. When he saw who it was, he freaked out and fell completely backwards. "Charlie?! Kevin?! Bobby?! What are you doing here?!"

"Idjits," Bobby muttered. "Didn't I tell you, family don't end in blood? Well, neither does family therapy, so let me sit down and let's get talkin'."


End file.
